Airman Link of the Grand Sails
by Light Onthemayo
Summary: For fans of the Sky Lines story. Link has been an airman for most of his life, but just what kind of airman was he? Find out in this series of crackpot shorts detailing the kinds of trouble Link and his best friend Line got into before the events of Sky Lines.
1. Year 5: Line Needs a New Tailor

Year 5: Line Needs a New Tailor

…

The flash blinded the boy, causing him to immediately look away from the pictographer. Massive spots filled his vision, and he slowly stepped away from the background screen while he tried to blink them out. He hated having his picture taken, especially since he had not been in a decent picture since he was seven. Somehow, he could never smile right, or something caught his eye and caused him to look away at the last second. Last year, the airman in line after him told a dirty joke that burned a horrified image into the scrapbook.

A hand caught his left arm, and he spun. "Well, Link?" the blurry airman in front of him asked. "Not so bad, right?"

Link pressed his hand into his eyes and rubbed. "No, it still sucks," he groaned. "What's with the umbrellas? All they do is make the flash brighter."

"That's probably the point."

Link's vision finally cleared enough to see his best friend, Airman Line, standing in front of him. His blue airman's tunic was clean for once, leaving Link to assume that he had recently bought a new one. He wore a black body suit with a pipe neck and brown slacks, both looking appropriately cleaned and pressed for the crew's picture day. The brown work boots, however, still sported dried dirt on the caps of the toes from what Line had been doing last night: stomping and kicking soil so he had a hard chunk to fling at a rival airman from the _Dayhawk_. Link had yet to see any progress in that aspect of Line's rivalry and, generally, found it easier not to ask.

"Still," Link said with a sigh. "I wish we didn't have to do this every year."

"Big deal, Link," Line told him, using the back of his hand to smack Link's shoulder. "So you look like a dork for a second out of your life. You know what's going to happen years later, when that scrapbook gets put next to the _Grand Sails_' logbook in the Skyrider's Archive? 'Look here. This is Captain Link when he was just _ten_ years old and already in his fifth year of service. Now _that's_ dedication.' Right?"

"I'm only dedicated because I don't know anything else, Line," Link said. "Besides, I don't know I _want_ to be a captain."

Line stepped beside him and pushed him into walking with a hand on his back. "You're not going to have a choice in the matter. That's all up to the fleet captains; they say who gets a ship and who doesn't."

"I think I'd prefer to just stay on the _Grand Sails_. I'm just not that ambitious. Besides, I screw up a lot. Captain Alfonzo's disciplined me four times last month for poorly tying down rigging."

Line shrugged. "A bump in the road."

"Six times for hauling up signal flags in the wrong order…"

"So we got ignored by the _Northern Tern_. They still got the message, right?"

"Three times for dripping ink on business reports…"

"I keep telling you you use too much ink in those pens."

"Once for not replacing the berth bedding correctly when he was punishi—d'ow!"

Line had just smacked the back of his head. He coolly jammed his hands into his trouser pockets and put a bored look on his face. "I was wondering who did that."

"Come on, Line," Link whined, trying to smooth out the blond hair on the back of his head. "We're supposed to keep up for the big picture. It took me half an hour to style my hair."

"Ha!" Line laughed. "Half an hour, huh? So how long did it take to pick out the outfit?"

Link twisted his face into an offended look and glanced down at his clothes. He wore a blue tunic with a pointed v-neck over a lime-green body suit which ended at the base of his neck. His brown work trousers were the cleanest pair he had, not to mention the only pair without patches or a need for patches. And he had shined the boots the night before and remained on the stone path all the way to the studio. He looked back up at Line. "What's wrong with my clothes?"

"Link, you're wearing a green body suit with a blue tunic. You can't tell me you don't feel at least a _little_ stupid."

"I wear this all the time!"

Line swept a hand out at the older airmen around them. "Do you see _any_ of them wearing the same thing?"

"I like these suits. They're the only ones Silva makes that don't _itch_."

"So? What's the point in being comfortable if you can't coordinate your colors?"

Link put on an annoyed look and glanced up and down at Line. Then he put on a sly grin and said, "Well, at least my clothes aren't irregular."

"What's _that_ supposed to mean?"

"Have you looked at the tunic you're wearing?"

Line looked down the front of his tunic. "What's wrong with my tunic?"

"The hems are all wrong. One side is longer than the other."

"What? No they're not."

"Yes they are." Link pointed at Line's butt. "Your rear is longer than your front."

Line looked around at his butt for a moment. "No no no no. Ha. Sorry, Link, but the guy I bought this from has been making airmen's tunics for years. He's never messed up a tunic."

"It's a first time for everything."

Line dropped his jaw in insult before stopping and turning to Link. "Okay, you want to see it?" he asked, taking off his belt.

"I can see it just fine, Line," Link told him, trying to stop the amused look on his face. "I'm telling you, it's long."

"We'll just see… about…" Line had to cut himself off as he pulled the tunic over his head. "That!" He shoved the tunic at Link. "Well?"

Link turned the tunic upside-down and showed Line the slit in one side. "See?" he asked, pressing the two hems together.

Line could see that the two hems did not match up. The rear hem looked to be longer by about the width of his two thumbs. "No, no, you're not holding it right," he accused, snatching the tunic back. He held it up and forced the hems level. "See? Look, it's just fine."

"Yeah, but there's a large gap in the side," Link said, pointing out the slit. "It doesn't look right."

"Well, show me _your_ tunic if _yours_ is so perfect!"

Link turned to one side and pressed the hems of his tunic together. "See? Mine's just fine. No gap."

Line wrinkled his nose. "Oh, whatever!" he shouted.

Then he reached forward and wrapped an arm around Link's neck. "Line!" Link wailed.

"This is for pointing out my tunic!" Line declared as he rubbed his tunic all over Link's styled hair.


	2. How Dry I Am (Not Very)

How Dry I Am (Not Very)

…

The previous year had seen Link receive a promotion of sorts. The last airman who had been assigned to inventory their stores had been let go when Lieutenant Luke and Captain Alfonzo had discovered that he had been selling off their tools and replacement parts for free drinks at five different pubs across Hyrule Kingdom. Rumor around the _Grand Sails_ had said that the captain had closed him in his own barrel of grog and thrown him off at the last port he had sailed to with the ship. Inventory was a fairly boring job which consisted of going through the airship's cargo hold and taking note of what supplies and equipment were aboard along with what was needed. The _Grand Sails_, being a galleon, held its cargo amidships on the top four of six decks and occasionally held more supplies in the brig when necessary. This made for a lot of space to cover as well as a lot of barrels and crates to check when the ship was full. Most airmen who had to carry those supplies seldom wanted to know what was in the holds, unless it was grog. Other airman preferred their spare time to relax. So Lieutenant Luke, Alfonzo's second-in-command who would eventually be given command of the _Summer Breeze_, recommended that Link take on the duty.

Link had been thrilled, mostly because it meant that he had been trusted with another duty. Link was too young to do a lot of the harder labor during the day; only on occasion would he be allowed to man the rigging or carry supplies aboard. Most of his duties had dealt with carrying items for either the captain or the second and helping ration the ship's food stores during long trips. Captain Alfonzo, along with the two seconds he had during Link's first five years of service, had taught Link how to read and write, and Link's handwriting was fine enough that he occasionally would be called on to draft or transcribe letters for the crew. Sometimes, he and Line had to crawl into the ship's structure to help with repairs that the other airmen could not perform. Or to retrieve things that other airmen had dropped behind a crate; they were much more reliable than a wad of tar on the end of a string.

Link had already taken inventory for the day when Lieutenant Luke's order from their Bold Island supply depot was filled. This made taking inventory and verifying the second's order simpler since all he had to do was add everything together.

Or it would have been if not for one issue.

"Wait," he said to the airman rolling a barrel across the deck. "Hold on a minute. What's in that barrel?"

"Grog," the airman grunted as he continued on.

"Wait wait wait," Link chanted, pattering up to the airman so he could step in his way. The airman, a large, muscular man wearing a tunic at least one size too small for him, had to grip both ends of the barrel to make it stop. "We've already got the grog we're supposed to have. Where's this barrel coming from?"

"It was on the supply cart," the airman told him, scratching at his thick beard.

"But that's too much."

He shrugged. "So you got an extra barrel," he told Link. "So what?"

"Well, has anyone told the depot?"

"Airman Link," one of the airmen behind Link's conversation partner, a man by the name of Hugh, spoke up, "you are the only one who cares about one extra batch of grog. And you don't even get a ration."

"Wha—I can't let this barrel on board until someone says otherwise!" Link whined. "I know you guys like grog, but did anyone at the depot charge for this extra one?"

"Forget it, Hugh," the man helping Hugh carry a large crate marked "spare parts: cleats" groaned from behind Hugh. "Just set the damn thing down." The deck shook when the crate hit, causing Link to cringe as he expected the deck boards to suddenly give way.

"I don't get the big deal," the grog-carrying airman said. "If it's such a problem, why don't _you_ go down to the depot and tell them that they got your order wrong?"

"I need to stay here and take inventory," Link replied. "Just double-check with the guy holding your manifest."

"He went to visit the pub nearby. I'm not gonna look for him."

"Come on, Link!" Hugh shouted at him. "Just let the guy pass."

"Look, just set it off to the side," Link told him. "I'll tell the chief when he gets back up."

But the airman just crossed his arms. "Are you _seriously_ busting my balls over an extra barrel of _grog_?"

"Just set it off to one side."

"Kinda _smaaaall_ to be ordering me around, aren't you?"

"Come on, Airman, just set it to the side," Hugh told him.

"Please?" Link added, one hand indicating the open deck to the side of the foremast.

"Oh, so it's _please_ now," the airman said as he turned the barrel up. He flagged down an airman approaching from behind Link. "Hey, you, let me see that crowbar." The other airman stopped and gave over a long piece of iron with two flat ends. "You see, kid, the depot doesn't like returns if the goods are contaminated." He jammed the crowbar into the lid of the barrel and popped it open. "See? It's contaminated."

Link stepped forward to look in the barrel. He could smell its alcoholic and citric contents, concentrated as they were until they would be mixed with water to form true grog. He did not know what either was supposed to look like; the liquid in the barrel, under an afternoon sky, looked clear and healthy.

"Link!" Hugh suddenly shouted.

Link felt himself pulled off his feet from the rear of his trousers. He cried out, and then he took in a quick breath as he saw himself heading straight into the barrel. His pen and clipboard dropped to the deck so he could wrap his fingers around the edge. But it was far too late as his head and shoulders were immersed into the drink. His nose flooded with the alcoholic drink, and he suddenly forced all of the air out of his lungs to keep his nose clear. Panic enveloped him. He opened his mouth to take in another breath. The alcohol burned his throat right away.

Then he found himself back on the deck, coughing out the grog's vileness as he lay on his side. He could not make out his surroundings too well. The airman that had thrown him in was being held by a pair of fellow airmen while Hugh hovered over him. A large hand patted his back, and Link coughed out more of the drink and took in another lungful of air.

"You okay, Link?" Hugh asked. Before Link could answer, he called to the other airmen, "Get him off the ship! His job's through here!"

Link remained quiet. He did not feel very well. The deck would not stop wobbling, and everything spontaneously had a twin. Hugh rolled him onto his back and gently smacked him on the cheek. "Hey, Link! Say something!" he shouted.

"I… think I'll just swim here, thank you," Link replied.

"Is he all right?" a passing airman asked.

"He just went pear-bobbing in a barrel of grog," Hugh said. He grabbed one of Link's arms and started hauling him to his feet. "Gimme a hand here."

"Wh-where we goin'?" Link slurred as he felt his eyes growing heavy.

"Confinement for drunken sailing," Hugh told him. "Hey! Bring that spare line here! We've got a soused one to haul up!"

"What, Link? Can't be; he's too small to get a ration!"

Hugh dropped Link to the deck. "Well, he just got himself a large dose of it. Come on, let's hang him up to dry."

Link had lost awareness before he could make out the next comment made to Hugh. He had no idea that his fellow airmen had hauled him onto the starboard shroud of the main mast and strapped him to it. In fact, no one had realized it until the ship had already set sail and Luke saw Link's small form tied to it from the bridge. The captain eventually heard the whole story and did not condemn any of the men for their actions.

But Link had a _whopper_ of a hangover that night.


	3. Barrel O' Un-Fun

Barrel O' Un-Fun

…

Timbre Island was an interesting place to visit for shore leave, a personal favorite of Captain Alfonzo. On Timbre Island, one did not relax in a calm, soothing atmosphere. One partied until one was a nameless heap of clothing splattered against the brick road which bisected the island, preferably without the ability to perceive anything until the next afternoon. What most airmen called a full-time carnival, Timbre Island sported bars, taverns, more bars, shooting galleries, bomb bowling, more bars, race tracks, dance halls, boxing rings, gambling houses, and even more bars which rarely ever seemed closed. The natives lived on a separate island an hour into the wind to isolate themselves from the noise long enough to get some sleep. Ships of any size could be found at the main island's floating dock. The ships of the Fair Traveler company especially preferred this island for shore leave, often comprising most of the visitors tearing the island to pieces for their drunken pleasure. Skyriders ships did not make a regular habit of setting up for shore leave on Timbre Island because it was on the southeast outskirts of Hyrule Kingdom, which was quite a journey from Skyrider Island due to having to take four connecting Sky Lines in order to reach it.

One particular occasion saw the _Grand Sails_ at Timbre Island because it happened to be in the neighborhood after delivering a shipment of steel to its smaller satellite, Quiet Island. Captain Alfonzo announced a day before arrival that they would be putting into Timbre Island for shore leave instead of waiting to get to Tabletop Island two days later. This would allow the _Grand Sails_ to get back to work sooner and keep the crew, who had spent the past month getting into fights with other companies' airmen, from chucking the command staff overboard. The crew met the announcement with rambunctious cheering.

The entire crew could not disembark to have fun. While Captain Alfonzo would enjoy the island later, the first evening that the _Grand Sails_ had spent docked required him to finish some company paperwork, including a catalogue of goods that the _Grand Sails_ had been transporting for the past month. Lieutenant Luke remained on the dock, meeting with seconds from other vessels for the usual scuttlebutt that passed between seconds-in-command. Link and Line, being too far underage to drink or handle potentially deadly weapons, had to remain at the captain's disposal. Other than them and a handful of airmen seeing to the ship's security, the rest of the crew disembarked the airship to find ways to get into trouble. Of note, three Fair Traveler ships and two ships of the Zephyr Sail company were also docked at the island as well, all five of them smaller than the _Grand Sails_ but likely carrying enough airmen all together to pound the Skyriders airmen. The captain could only hope that his airmen behaved themselves; Skyriders and Zephyr Sails were not exactly known for getting along with each other, and Fair Travelers were mean in general.

Link stood next to Captain Alfonzo's desk, double-checking the supply and cargo records he had taken while the captain filled out the required documents. The captain's cabin smelled faintly of smoke as Alfonzo indulged in a bit of pipe tobacco. The cabin door and a rear window was open, and Link stood upwind of the breeze that took the tobacco smoke out of the room.

"Link," Alfonzo said after about two hours of silently pouring over numbers. He held up a small receipt for Link to read. "What's this five heads of cuckoos?"

"Huh?" Link answered as he took the receipt. His eyes scanned it, and he found that the receipt had come from a farm on Rake Island. "I don't know, Captain; I don't recall having any livestock onboard."

"Are you sure, airman?"

"I did all the cargo inventories, and I never saw cuckoos come aboard, Captain." He looked harder at the receipt. Then he pointed at the top. "Airman Ward handled the transaction."

Captain Alfonzo growled. "If there's anything I can't stand, it's having someone undercut business on _my_ ship. Take Line and find him. Tell him I want him here even if his hair's on fire and his underpants are the only thing he hasn't gambled away."

Link saluted. "Aye, sir." Alfonzo dismissed the salute, and Link, after placing the receipt under the pyramid paperweight on the corner of the desk, exited the cabin.

Outside, he found Line descending from the stairs to the lower weather deck. "Hey, Line," he said. "We've got a job to do."

"I was just about to go join Brutes for a game of cards," Line said, indicating the forecastle with a finger.

"Sorry, Line, it'll have to wait," Link said. "The captain wants us to go into town and find Airman Ward."

"What for?"

"We found a receipt for cuckoos we transported, but we haven't had livestock onboard for over a month. The receipt came from our last trip to Rake Island."

Line screwed up his face after Link's explanation. "Okay, I can wait," he said with a dismissive shrug. "Those guys like to cheat anyway; I can lose my pay some other time."

Together, they disembarked and followed the floating docks (called so because their substructure was not built on the island but on a Loft Steam ballast) into the town. Lanterns and electric lights gave life to the main street, trying to make up for the two dozen or so airmen already unconscious on the ground. Their eyes wandered into the various bars and game shops, trying to find any Skyriders which were still conscious and clear enough to talk to. After asking a couple of Skyrider airmen in a bar closer to the docks, they discovered that Airman Ward had moved further into the island looking for a bar he favored. This resulted in a long walk up the steep hill further along the main road. The air at the top of the hill stank of expended gunpowder and rum, and there was not enough breeze to drive the smell away. After a few steps, Link and Line found the Gut Buster.

They remained outside the door because there was a fight in progress. In fact, they pressed their backs against the outer wall after a flying bottle almost bashed into Link's head.

"Well, now what?" Link asked Line across the doorway, wincing at the sound of glass breaking and bodies being thrown about.

"Depends on who's winning," Line replied, his voice loud so Link could hear him. "And… well, who's fighting."

"Can you tell?"

"Uh… hang on." Line then dared to poke his head through the open doorway. When he pulled back, he answered, "It looks like Fair Travelers versus Zephyr Sails. All our guys are huddled in one corner taking bets."

"Do you think we can go in?"

"Oh, yeah, no problem. They're not bothering our guys. Watch." Line, after checking that no one was near the door, stepped inside and walked along the wall towards the Skyrider crew sitting in the far corner.

Link followed after him, and soon, both were standing with their crewmates. "Airman Ward?" Link asked the table.

One man, with a slender build and his red hair cut short, turned around to look at them. "What is it, kid?" he asked in a curious voice.

"The captain wants you back on the ship."

Ward clicked his tongue. "Well, _now_ I know where it went," he said, standing. "Thanks, Link." He turned to the table and said to another airman, "Remember, I put down ten rupees on the Sails."

"Got it," the airman replied.

Ward pushed past them and used their route to reach the doorway. Link elbowed Line. "Come on," he said, "let's get back."

"Hang on a sec, Link," Line said as he took Ward's chair. "I wanna get in on this. What's the minimum?"

"Three rupees," the other airman said.

"Five says the Travelers mop the floor with the Sails," Line told him.

"I still say we're gonna get caught in this," another airman said. "Just watch. We're gonna be fighting in just a few minutes."

Link sighed. "Okay, well, I need to get back."

Line waved him off. "Okay, okay, go."

Link started along the wall back to the door. He had to step over one of the Zephyr Sail airmen who had been left unconscious at the wall. Unfortunately, he stumbled and knocked a chair into the fray. This caused a Fair Traveler airman who had just entered to stumble over the chair and hit the floor with a resounding thud.

As if it was a catalyst, the brawl suddenly ground to a halt as all attention first turned to the fallen airman, and then to Link. Link was frozen in place, fully and painfully aware of the mistake he had just made.

"Yes!" All attention suddenly turned to the Skyrider airman who had made the bet that the Skyriders would be involved in the fight. "I won!" He gazed excitedly at his crewmates. Then, when their horrified looks sank in, he looked back out to the other airmen with shock coloring his face pale. "Oh."

Another Skyrider airman shot to his feet. "Run for it, Link!"

The brawl resumed, but Link barely had time to see it before one of the Fair Traveler airmen grabbed him. Link struggled, but the man, easily three times his size, had him pinned against his chest as fists flew around him. One of his friends brought up an empty barrel from behind the bar and slammed it on the floor in front of Link. The airman dropped Link into it and tipped it over. Link was seeing stars after his head struck the inside of the barrel. Then he braced himself as the barrel rolled. Link could barely tell what was going on, not wanting to glance out of the barrel. Whooping and hollering sounded around him for a bit.

Then Link realized that he was outside again. The barrel stopped, so he ventured a look outside. Three Fair Traveler airmen, all wearing their identifying purple waistcoats, stood above him, looking particularly ominous. Link quickly understood why after turning around, finding that the barrel had been perched at the top of the hill. He gulped and turned back to the airmen. Then he ducked back into the barrel as a bottle shattered against the ground near him.

One kick, and Link was tumbling down the hill.

"AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH—G wah!" At one point, the closed end of the barrel struck something, sending Link into an additional spin which battered him against the inside. Shouting sounded from outside as airman either dodged the barrel or were run over because they could not stand up in time to get away. Link could not tell what they were saying, trying his hardest to stay inside the barrel where he figured he would be safe. He could feel nausea approaching with each revolution, and the punishment his head was taking only made the nausea worse.

The barrel stopped hard against the side of a building, slamming Link into the barrel's interior. His head refused to right itself as he crawled out. Then he did what any disoriented airman would do.

He threw up on the road and collapsed.


	4. Hooked On Something

Hooked On… Something

…

Link had no idea how it had happened. One moment, he was taking inventory on their new shipment of cargo: a ton of fertilizer produced by the ranchers of Rake Island.

The next, he hung suspended by his jacket just outside of his reach of the _Grand Sail_'s weather deck. He had donned the blue jacket because the air around Rake Island tended to be cold in the early morning. Now, the large hook used by the crane lowering the cargo into the hold below suspended him by the back of his jacket. What worse, when the hook pulled up, his closed jacket pulled up until it was wedged securely under his arms. He could not raise his shoulders to slip out of the jacket lest he dislocate them, leaving his jacket bunched up around his chest. The crane operator must have gone on break right after it had happened because Link had been suspended above the deck for twenty minutes before anyone had noticed.

The first person to notice was Line. And Link had to endure Line's hysterical laughing for five minutes before any sort of conversation started.

"Wh-what'd you do?" Line asked as he picked himself up from the deck.

"I don't know!" Link shouted at him. "Just get me down!"

"It's—_pft_!" Line spat as he tried to hold back his laughter. "I'm sorry, but it's just—just so _stupid_!"

"Line!" Link whined.

"Okay, okay." Line stepped around Link and examined him. "Wow, it's really got you. How did you manage _this_?"

"I told you I don't know!"

"Okay, I got an idea." Line stepped in front of Link again and got to his hands and knees. "Get on my back."

Link reached out a foot. Then he kicked to give himself some swing. "I can't! You're too far away!"

"Just let me—DAH!" Line rolled onto his side when Link's flailing feet smacked his temple. "Ow! Link!"

"Wah-I'm _sorry_! Come on, try it again; I won't kick!"

Line rose to his feet with a hand on his head. "No! Just forget it!"

"I said I was _sorry_!"

"You kicked me _in the head_!"

"I'm _really_ sorry! But _you_ were the one who wasn't paying attention!"

Line indicated the deck. "I was giving you something to stand on!"

"You weren't close enough! How could you not see that?"

"Oh, so it's _my_ fault you're stuck on a hook?"

"No, it's your fault I'm _still_ stuck on a hook!"

"Oh, yeah?"

"Yeah!"

A crowd of Skyrider airmen had formed around the arguing pair. Line, unable to follow through with the argument, placed his hands on Link's stomach and shoved.

"Whoa-whoa-WAAAH!" Link hollered as he swung, flailing his forearms to no avail. He started kicking again to change his direction and subsequently delivered a boot to the face of a crewmate who had just turned to make a comment to his buddy.

His buddy caught Link by one ankle. "Damn you, Line!" he declared. Then he reared back and swung Link straight at Line. Link hollered again as he swung across the deck. Line side-stepped his friend, and the airman behind Line caught Link by the ankle again.

"Dodge _this_!" the airman shouted. He swung Link fast. Line did not have enough time to turn and notice and, as a result, collided with Link and fell to the deck.

The impact left Link without any momentum. He looked down at his friend and commented, "Should've seen that one coming…"

"Oh, yeah?" Line said as he got back to his feet. He grabbed Link's ankle and backpedaled away from the offending airman.

"NonolinewaiiiIIIIII—!" Link shouted as Line ran forward and shoved Link as hard as possible. The airman on the other side grabbed the airman to his right and pulled him in front as a shield. Link's flailing legs hit the man in front, and the defending airman caught Link by his trouser leg before he could swing out of reach. "Oh, come on, you guys! Quit it!"

"I got you, you little punk!" the airman said to Line before tossing Link again. Line side-stepped and grabbed the back of Link's tunic. This proved to be a bad idea because Link swung fast enough to pull Line off-balance. Line hit the deck hard, and another airman stepped forward to catch Link by the seat of his trousers.

"Hey, Grant!" this airman shouted. "Catch!" Link felt himself shoved hard from behind. His target, Airman Grant, took the warning for how it sounded and caught Link by the ankle. Without a word, though, Grant threw Link at another airman across the circle.

Link spent what must have been half an hour pleading with his fellow airmen while they played an impromptu game of what they spontaneously decided to call "Dodge-Link". The rules were simple enough: try to hit one of your crewmates with Link. Some cheated and spun Link hard enough to clock the guy standing next to him with Link's free leg. They kept track of their own points. One point for striking someone else. Half a point if that someone else happened to be standing next to you. Two points for calling out the name of the target. Bonus points were taken for hitting Line, called or not, although the points taken often depended on how far behind the airman was. Points were lost for getting hit because the requirement for being hit was being stupid enough not to pay attention.

Everyone lost when the command staff found out. Confounded by the lack of work, Chief of the Deck Rota stepped onto the weather deck to see what was going on. He went back below shaking his head, convinced that they would return to work soon enough. Later, Captain Alfonzo and Lieutenant Luke exited the captain's cabin when the commotion rose enough for them to notice. The captain had been examining a ceremonial saber left over from a few years back, and he strode out onto the deck with it and his second to see what was going on. Upon seeing them, airmen immediately stepped out of the captain's way.

Link, having been swung in their direction, missed the captain and kicked Luke in the face. Luke dropped to the deck hard, trying to hold back his urge to curse and a nosebleed.

"Captain on deck!" someone shouted. Every airman in the group immediately stood stiff, including Line. This was unfortunate for Line, as Link collided with him and knocked him to the deck again.

Alfonzo strode forward and, being large, put a single hand around the rope holding Link to the crane. "Line, get up," he ordered.

Line scrambled to his feet and saluted. "Aye, sir!"

The captain's gaze swept around the airman. "Let me point out to you mangy scabs that while you've been _playing_, part of a cargo of _poo_ is sitting in the hold, stinking up my ship! I personally don't like it! I've got the face of every man here. And guess _what_. You idiots just volunteered to guard our cargo from people who might decide to steal it. Oh, you won't be guarding it all at once. The goddesses know I'm not _that_ crazy. No, in the time you're supposed to have off-duty, you'll be standing or sleeping guard in the hold with our beloved cargo of _scat_! Now get back to work before I decide to make that your _permanent_ job!"

The airmen did not give him any response as they scrambled back to their positions: some checking the rigging, others carrying smaller cargo and supplies onto the ship. Line disappeared into the hold.

Luke stepped up to the captain, handkerchief held over his bleeding nose. "Just when you think you've seen it all, aye, Captain?"

"Aye," Alfonzo said with a nod.

He started walking away until Link spoke up, "Uh, C-Captain?"

"Huh?" Alfonzo turned as if realizing that Link was on the hook. "Oh, right. Don't worry, Link, you're off the hook."

The captain turned again, so Link asked, "C-Captain? I-I can't get down."

Alfonzo turned back and looked up the length of rope holding Link. "Oh, sorry, kid."

Then, he whipped out the saber in his hand and sliced through the rope in a single stroke. Link fell to the deck, giving off a pained grunt when the hook that had been holding onto his jacket struck his lower back. His next words came out low and muffled.

"Thanks, Captain."


	5. You Guys Blew It

You Guys Blew It

…

The Castle Island Police were an interesting group. While the Castle Towns of old were usually looked after by the Royal Knights of Hyrule, the population of Castle Island had grown so large and widespread that it was difficult for an organization like the Royal Knights to keep track of criminal activity and protect the royal family at the same time. So the governor of Castle Island, Governor Lore, petitioned the Crown for permission to establish a separate protection force which served the civilian population exclusively. This became the Castle Island Police Force. Usually identifiable by their distinct, navy-blue jerkins, the police were often confused with Skyrider airmen at first. The police dealt with this problem by having their officers carry distinctive equipment, often a pair of handcuffs and a circular shield which they could sling on their backs. Along with equipment, the police had been given their own horses from the same ranchers who bred the Royal Knights' steeds and even had a handful of junk-rigged airships at their disposal.

Their facility in the port was equally impressive. At first an abandoned brewery, they had cleaned out the stone-walled cellar and put in dividing walls with steel bars to make temporary jail cells. A few of the _Grand Sail_'s airmen had the pleasure of experiencing the humidity that could build up this jail when people were in it.

Line, standing with his arms between the bars while he leaned on the door's lock, whined, "Come _on_! It was an accident."

"You blew up a powder magazine, Line," Airman Kero, seated on the floor in one corner of the cell, told him. "Two warehouses destroyed. Seven people injured. And I'm pretty sure that police sergeant is still picking up all his teeth."

Line spun. "Wh—who the hell packs a powder magazine like that and never bothers to sweep it up? That guy was _inviting_ trouble!"

"Weren't _you_ the one who took a lantern into the magazine in the first place?" Airman Awan asked.

"It was _dark_! Not _one_ window! What was I supposed to do, wander around in the dark all day?"

"At least we would've gotten back to the ship on time," Kero pointed out. "Now, not only is the ship short a few airmen, but the _Moon's Shadow_ and the _Grand Cannon_ aren't gonna get their powder shipments like they're suppose to."

"You know, though," Awan said as he stroked his stubble-laden chin. "You were still inside the magazine when it went up. How'd you survive long enough to end up on the roof of that other warehouse?"

"Are you _kidding_?" Line said. "I hauled ass out of there the moment I knocked the lantern over! I wasn't gonna be a hero!"

"I guess it's only our fortune that we keep our powder magazine clean," Kero chuckled. "With airmen like _you_ around, we'd've probably been sunk before now."

"Screw you!" Line shouted. "I know poor upkeeping when I see it! It just happened to be our turn to point it out in the worst possible way. Did they even charge us when they arrested us?"

"If they did, _I_ sure couldn't hear it," Kero said. "My ears wouldn't stop ringing until they threw us down here."

"What do you think they charged us with?" Awan asked.

Kero shrugged. "Negligence at best."

"What about worst?" Line asked.

"Probably homicidal mischief."

Line scrunched his face in irritation. "You made that up."

"No, I've heard about that one," Awan spoke up. "I had a buddy with Zephyr Sail who got busted on that charge. Nothing as spectacular though."

"What'd he do?" Kero asked.

"He got mad at one of his superior officers and chucked a barrel of grog overboard. The port authority on Drift Island had him charged with homicidal mischief because the barrel almost hit passengers disembarking from another ship."

"Oh, come on," Line groaned, pinching the bridge of his nose. "No one died."

"We've been in this cell for a while," Kero pointed out. "And we look like we've been rolling in dirt. We can't exactly count on not having our asses handed to us right now, either by the police _or_ the captain."

Awan chuckled. "Can you imagine what Captain Alfonzo will say once he realizes that we were the ones that caused that explosion."

"You mean _Line_ caused the explosion," Kero said. "We were just sitting outside with the cart."

"Well, _two_ of us were," Awan said as he cast his eyes to the other corner.

Their fourth accomplice had been sitting in the same corner since he was brought in. Unlike the other three, he was clean and without any visible wounds. He sat with his arms crossed and a pouting look on his face, mostly because he was mad at them. They had spoiled his mood, and he had refused to talk to them for a while.

When all three of them looked at him, Link took in a deep breath.

"I don't even know why _I_ got arrested! I wasn't anywhere_ near_ the magazine!"


	6. We Didn't Blow It This Time

We Didn't Blow It This Time

…

Airmen Link, Line, Awan, and Kero spent the night in a jail cell. They were released the next morning when the police heard the whole story from the person who owned the powder magazine that Line inadvertently blew up. They were not charged with anything; the police agreed with Line's assessment that the magazine would have blown up at any time because it had not been properly swept for months. Besides, Line had already had a bad day from the concussion he had received, and the police were trying to be a little sympathetic for a ten-year-old who had been flung from an exploding powder magazine to the top of a nearby warehouse. Awan, Kero, and Link had been released with him since Line was not at fault, but the police had only apologized to Link for the arrest because the officer who had arrested him was new.

The four of them had to walk from the police station to the _Grand Sails_ on the far side of the port. It was mid-afternoon when they arrived. But, as they walked up the gangplank, they found Lieutenant Luke blocking their way.

Luke stood with his arms crossed over his green tunic, half of his mouth turned up in a grin. His shaved head reflected the afternoon light in their eyes. His narrow jaw sported a small shadow of rust, giving the other airmen the impression that he had forgotten to shave his face this morning.

"Hi, boys," he said. "Police let you go?"

"Early this morning," Kero, at the head of the group, told him. "They couldn't get the whole story until the guy who owns the magazine—"

"_Owned_ the magazine," Awan corrected. Line cast him an irritated look.

"Right," Kero continued. "Anyway, they had to wait until he was finished with his headache before they could get the story from him. We're in the clear."

"Well, that's good to hear," Luke said with a nod. "And you guys? You're all all right?"

"Line probably got the worst of it," Awan said. "He was in the magazine when it blew."

"We're just covered in dust," Kero said, brushing off a sleeve as if to prove it.

Luke leaned to one side. "What about you, Link? Why'd you get arrested? I thought you were trying to find a cobbler."

"I got lost," Link said. "I wasn't near the explosion, but I got arrested because I was wearing a blue tunic like them."

Luke nodded to himself. "Ah, I see."

"So, we didn't get the powder we needed," Awan said with a shrug. "At least we didn't get tossed in the brig."

"Well, let me tell you something," Luke said. "The brig would've been better for you guys."

Kero and Awan exchanged nervous looks. "Captain pissed?" Kero asked.

Luke nodded. "You guys aren't allowed aboard."

Awan nodded with Kero. "He's pissed."

"If you guys had been tossed in a prison with criminal charges, we could've shipped off without the powder and had another ship pick it up later with you four. But the police informed the captain that they had you in custody and were _waiting_ to see if you would be charged. Because there was a possibility that you guys might get off, the captain had to wait. The rest of the shipment's going to be late, but the fact that we not only lost our gunpowder shipment but four of our airmen were suspected of causing the explosion that wiped it out… well, it's put him in a bad mood. He doesn't want you guys near him. Or the bridge. Or his cabin. Or the powder magazine. Or the stern-half of the ship. I figure you guys are better off not being on the ship _at all_."

"Sooo… we've been reassigned?" Awan asked.

"No."

Kero grimaced. "We've been fired?"

"You and Awan, I could see, but Link and Line can't be fired. Don't worry, though; you weren't fired."

"So we're just…" Kero trailed off.

"Not allowed onboard."

"But the ship can't leave without us," Line said. "Can it?"

"No, we still need you guys. You're just not allowed on."

"We're just…"

"Not allowed on."

Link was the only one to not give an awkward, confused nod. "I don't get it."

"Don't worry, Link," Luke told him. "You're not the only one."

Line leaned on the rope attached to the gangplank. "So, what are we supposed to do? Pack ourselves in a crate so you can smuggle us aboard?"

Luke shrugged. "I'm not opposed to the idea. You guys j—"

_Bummmmmmm_. All eyes turned to a large cloud of grey smoke billowing into the air from across the port. Police whistles suddenly started blaring through the port as officers ran towards the explosion. Link, Line, Awan, Kero, and Luke stood aghast at the spectacle.

Then Luke stood aside. "Time to go, boys." The four airmen quickly filed onto the ship and disappeared from sight.


	7. The Un In Funeral

The "Un" in "Funeral"

…

Link lay on his back, staring at the lid of the wooden box he rested in. A sack of cherry drops sat on his chest, and he occasionally took one out and popped it into his mouth. As small as the box was, both he and Line found that they could conveniently fit in it as long as they did not mind interlocking their legs with each other. The box, a coffin made for airmen much larger than them put together, had served as their means of dodging out of swabbing duty. At first, Link had been against it. But when Line revealed that he had hidden candy and a lantern in the padding, Link did not mind squeezing in for a bit of relaxation. Line had him convinced that Chief Rota would not expect to look for them in the cargo hold, never mind inside a coffin. Every airship always had a spare coffin or two, although most incidents which claimed airmen's lives tended to warrant a few kind words and a ration of grog thrown over the deck in the hope that it would find the man it was intended for. Link had once asked Lieutenant Luke what would happen if _he_ happened to die while still an airman. Luke had answered "prune juice". It had taken Link a couple of days to pick up on his meaning. And the fact that he probably had not been joking.

"Link!" Line hissed, thrusting his boot in between Link's legs. Link, in surprise, spat out the cherry drop in his mouth. He groaned, cupping his hands over his groin. Line stashed the peanut brittle he had been munching into the lining. "Shut up, Link!"

Link curled up. "That hurt," he growled.

"Just shut _up_!"

Link managed to bring his groaning under control and listened. He could hear footsteps on the deck and tried to turn so Line's foot was not within strike range again. He spilled his cherry drops, and his knee hit the lantern. Line thrust his foot against Link's butt and quickly grabbed up the lantern before it set fire to the cloth padding.

Link kicked back but missed Line. "Cut it out."

"I said shut up!"

"Stop!"

"Come on, we're gonna get caught!"

Link settled on the far side of the coffin, trying to keep from getting hit again. When the noise inside finally settled, both boys clamped their hands over their mouths when they realized that the footsteps were nearby. They could hear someone grunting as things were moved around. Line signaled Link and held up a finger. When Link realized he was saying that there was an airman on his side, Link signaled back that there was someone on his side, too.

Then the box rose, and both boys braced themselves against the inside as they moved around. "Okay, Gilly, here we go," a voice on the outside said.

"What's going on?" Link breathed to Line.

"I don't know," Line mouthed back. The box tilted, and he almost slid into Link before he pressed his feet harder into the sides of the coffin.

"Whoa, what the hell?" someone on the outside said.

"Yeah, that poor Gilly," the first voice said. "He was always a little bottom-heavy."

"What'd you say he died of?"

"Strung up by a loose stay. By the neck."

"Ugh."

"You know what the worst part is? He wasn't supposed to _be_ on deck. He was just going to get a cup of coffee after reporting to the captain." The back end of the coffin hit something, and Link's head bounced off the side. "Careful with it. It's bad enough his leg fell off."

"His leg fell off?"

"Yeah. When that stay went, he got pulled up to the yardarm and slung around it. You'd never think a leg could get pulled off like that, but the guy was _flying_! His leg just popped out and fell over the side."

Someone slapped the side of the coffin twice. "Bad day, huh, Billy?"

"Worst ever. You should've seen the letter."

"What letter?"

"From his wife. She ran off with the dog."

"The… the _dog_?"

"Mmm-hmm. Said the dog was the best thing that happened to her. Last I heard, they got on a circus ship somewhere out west."

"Damn… tough luck."

"And his parents died."

"Ho—… R-really?"

"Someone crashed a junk into their house."

The other voice paused before saying in a shaky voice. "Wha-who did it?"

"Some guy. Carrying a ton of tulips. Happened while he was gone, so his wife wrote to him about it with the news about the dog."

"Well, I—… I guess he's better off, huh?" For a moment, Link thought that the airman was crying.

"Over here, boys." Link and Line exchanged shocked looks. That voice had sounded like the captain. "Just set it next to the bulwark, and we'll get this over with." The coffin clapped on the deck, and Line blew out the lantern. Both boys remained frozen in the dark as the captain began talking. "Men. We are gathered here today to pay our respects to Airman Franklin, one of our most beloved companions. And although that man has departed from this world by some… highly unusual and unspeakable circumstances, our memories of him will continue this journey in his stead. I remember when I first hired him…"

"What's going on?" Line whispered under the captain's speech. "I didn't know anyone _died_ onboard."

"And in a gruesome way," Link answered. "No wonder the captain didn't want to mention it."

"Link! Don't you get it? They think _we're the dead guy_!"

"Just take it easy," Link told him. "I mean, it's not like they're going to toss us overboard. When they take us back below to stow, we'll just slip out and pack it with a few things. They'll never find out."

They stopped to listen, realizing that the captain had paused. "And now," the captain continued, "we commemorate his body to the skies. We know what it meant to him to sail with us and that his final wish was to be sent to the surface on his passing. Since he did not fall overboard, we can only offer to cast him from his last post to the surface he so desperately wished to see."

"Wait, what?" Line asked.

"Uh oh," Link agreed.

"Okay, boys. Send him over."

They stumbled as the coffin was picked up again. When they felt it settle teetering on something narrow, both boys had the same idea and shoved the lid off the coffin with great force.

"Wait, wait!" they both cried out, holding out their hands as if to reach for safety.

Lieutenant Luke crossed his arms, a smile growing on his face. "Hello, boys," he said in a strained, deep voice. "Nice of you to join us."

"Wha-huh?" Line stuttered while Link turned his head to look around. He tapped Line from behind and pointed over his side of the coffin. Line arched his neck to see that the coffin was not balancing on the bulwark. Instead, it was set on the edge of the hold with Link's end suspended above the stairs. One airman was holding the coffin at the side, grinning as he rocked them.

"Sorry, boys," Luke told them. "You're busted. Dereliction of duty. Two days in the brig, report to the captain, and reduced rations. Either that, or we _really_ toss you two over."

Line looked down at the candy which had spilled all over the bottom of the coffin when they had been picked up. "Can we… finish our goodies first?"


	8. Fabulous Link on the Swinging Trapeze

The Fabulous Link on the Swinging Trapeze

…

The _Grand Sails_, being a fully-rigged galleon with masts taller than the ship itself, had a lot of moving pieces holding it together. Most of the rigging saw a few months of wear at a time before the vessel returned to Skyrider Island for a regular inspection. Standing rigging was easy to look at because it did not need to be moved nor should it really be unless it had to be replaced. The ship's running rigging, however, was a lot more complicated. Whereas stays and shrouds were simply anchor points for the ship's masts, almost every other line crisscrossing the air between the sails was a piece of the running rigging. Braces, buntlines, halyards, boom vangs, at least three dozen metal pulleys, chains, cleats, and mounting points for studding sails all had to be checked and replaced in the week the _Grand Sails_ was in port. Any longer attracted Captain Alfonzo's ire, and that generally led to airmen taking extra duties left and right. The first five years of Alfonzo's captaincy had been peppered with men taking on strange jobs aboard the ship just to make up for the captain running out of punishment the first day past the ship's regular maintenance allowance. The crew had had to think up a faster way of checking and rigging the ship back up much faster.

Fortunately, their answer had come the year Link and Line had joined the crew. Being lighter than an average airman but with a decent understanding of the ship's structure, Link and Line were ideal for hauling up the masts to deliver parts and lines for the airmen to rig up. At first, they were attached via the same pulleys used for the regular running rigging along the royal sail yard and switched to the next side or mast as the crew needed. Then, the previous year, the crew had received permission from the captain to set up a pair of blocks at the top of each mast so that they boys could work from those instead of taking up the rigging on the royal yards. Although neither boy could rig up the ship due to not having the strength to rig up shackles or tighten bolts, they made setting up lines much easier. Parts were effortlessly transported from the deck to the airmen setting up the rigging.

It was quite an experience for both boys as well. The first year had consisted of tying a rope around their waists and hauling them up a little at a time since any faster had been likely to cause pain. After that, some of the more inventive airmen had come up with protection and convenience for both the boys and the crew. The last inspection had seen Link and Line fitted into leather harnesses with their support ropes set up through the shoulder straps so that they could remain upright while moving about. For the boys, it had been fun. They had the sensation of weightlessness as they hollered directions down to their crewmates. For lateral motion, they could walk along the yards.

Link took the block that Airman Dexter had just finished inspecting. "Okay, back up to the topsail," he called out to the airmen holding his tow line from behind the main mast.

"Hang on," Airman Blair, heading the three airmen controlling Link, told him. "Haul him up, boys."

Link was thankful for the harness the others had made for him. Granted it chafed his thighs, it was far better than having a bare rope tied around his waist. It was just barely into the evening of their return, and half of the rigging had been stripped and inspected from the foremast. At the rate they were moving, they could have the foremast fully inspected and rigged before the approaching night forced them to quit. They pulled Link up until he was just barely above the second-lowest yard. There, he handed the block off to an airman waiting for him near the mast. This airman then passed it down the line until it would reach the airman at the far end of the yard.

"Hey, Link?"

"Yeah," Link replied, looking to the opposite side of the yard.

Line, standing on the quarter next to the airman rigging the yardarm for a clewline, held up a long bolt for Link to see. "You know where this goes?" he called. Link, after calling down for some slack, pulled himself onto the yard by the mast and started traversing it. The other airmen on the yard, standing on the footrope running the length of the yard, pulled their hands out of the way as he passed. When Link reached Line, Line handed over the bolt for Link to look at. "It looks like it goes through a part of the hull, but it looks too long for a cleat bolt."

The bolt felt heavy enough that it should anchor to something in the hull, but Line was right about the length. He glanced down at the airman on the Flemish horse, who was holding a clewline block in one hand while staring up at Link waiting for a verdict. "And it doesn't fit through the block and the yardarm?" Link asked Line.

"Does it?" Line asked the airman on the Flemish horse.

"Oh, is that what it's for?" the airman asked in turn, glancing back at the block. He started fitting the block onto the yardarm. "Oh. Oh, am I… am I about to feel… ugh, kinda stupid?"

"Uh… yeah, probably," Line said as Link handed the bolt back. "_I_ sure feel pretty stupid." He passed the bolt down to the airman, who then fitted it into the holes in the block's clamp and a hole in the yardarm itself.

"It fits, right?" Link asked.

The airman gave an annoyed sigh. "Yeah, that works."

"Where's the nut that goes with it?" Link asked.

"I've already got it," the airman said, winding said nut onto the screw-end of the bolt.

Line scratched his head. "We should've seen that." Then he whacked the side of Link's head in irritation. "Thanks a lot."

"Whoooa…" Link said, suddenly unable to maintain his balance. He could feel himself going over the side and grabbed for the only thing within reach.

Line.

"AAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHH!" Both boys hollered out as they fell from the yard. Their support lines suddenly tensioned as the airmen on the deck tried to haul them up as fast as possible. At their height, they were in no danger of falling to the weather deck.

_Pum pum!_ The mast was another story. Link's left shoulder, followed by Line's back, slammed hard into the foremast. Even then, their small bodies produced little sound from the hit. Link felt pain like none before suddenly shoot all over his shoulder, and he clenched his jaw to keep from screaming out. Line managed to fare better, but when he saw his friend holding a very dislocated shoulder in pain, he immediately shouted at the airmen on the deck to lower them.

Link spent the next month stuck at Skyrider Island while his shoulder healed.


	9. Somebody Stop My Mouth

Somebody Stop My Mouth

…

Being on sick leave in the Skyriders did not necessitate the same thing as shore leave, especially if the need for sick leave only involved being injured. Thanks to Link's dislocated shoulder, he was temporarily assigned to the home office as an assistant supply clerk. It was a pretty simple job, and it allowed Link to return to the dormitories at the end of the day. His job was to take supply requisitions from ships as they returned to Skyrider Port and check them against the depot's supply records. If they had the supplies the ship needed, he handed it off to another supply clerk who would take the airmen back to find what they needed. If they did not, one of two things happened. If the supplies were parts for a ship, Link would put them on a list to receive parts the next time the ship returned. If the supplies were for crew needs, he would pass the requisition off to the supply clerk so that he could fill out another requisition form that the ship could use at another port to obtain the supplies they needed. Unlike the environment on the _Grand Sails_, Link found that he could relax a bit at the Skyriders' supply depot. That was the doctor's orders anyway. His one irritation was that he had to use his right hand to fill out the supply log since his left arm was in a sling. The doctor had told him not to move it for a month. Although he was actually quite adept with his right hand as well, he found that something as delicate as writing was a little tricky. Occasionally, at the end of the day, Link had to interpret his awkward scribbling for the supply clerk.

The _Grand Sails_ returned to Skyrider Port two weeks after Link was assigned to the depot. It was bringing in supplies from Castle and Forge Islands, and a score of airmen showed up at the depot to drop off the supplies.

Line was with them.

Line froze when he saw that Link was sitting at the supply clerk's desk, wearing an open, leather waistcoat instead of an airman's tunic.

Link glanced up at him. "Hey, Line."

Line gulped and put on a smile. "Hey, Link," he said as he stepped up to the front of the desk. He held out the supply manifest. "We got stuff for you."

"Explains why you're here."

Line winced. He could not be sure if Link was still angry at him or if that was just an offhand remark. "Yeah, uh… yeah." He pointed a thumb over his shoulder. "Uh, the guys are ready to unload."

"One minute," Link replied as he scooted his chair back and pulled open a desk drawer. He sifted through a folder with the depot's supply requests until he found a copy of the form that was sent out with the _Grand Sails_. After he double-checked the request form with the manifest Line had handed him, he nodded. "Yeah, looks good."

"Have at it, guys," Line called, holding a thumbs-up to them. But instead of leaving with them, Line continued to stand in front of the desk while Link busied himself with updating the supply record. "So."

"So," Link replied, not looking up.

Line gave a pause before finding a topic. "How's the shoulder?" Then he grimaced at his stupid selection.

"It's fine," Link said. "Hurts occasionally. The painkillers the doctor gave me make it easier to get through the day."

Line nodded, relieved that Link was not holding much of a grudge. "Okay. Um… I know I told you before. You… you know I'm sorry, right?"

"Yeah, you told me." Link frowned at the horrible number he had written and picked up a rubber tablet to erase it.

"Okay." Line scratched the back of his head. "So… the supply depot, huh."

"Yeah."

"I-I thought you… you know… you were supposed to get some sick leave."

Link had to pause to wipe out another horrible number. "I'm not sick, technically. The company assigned me to the depot while I'm recovering."

"Oh. So-so, are you here all day?"

"I get out in the evening after we close up."

"Home?"

"Dorms."

"Oh." He paused to think of another topic. "Get to visit anyone?"

"I tried visiting Leeta's once. It turns out that she still hugs you even when you have a visible injury."

Line grimaced. "I guess I won't be visiting _her_ if I get injured."

"Yeah, it's a bad idea."

"It's a…"

"Bad idea."

"Bad idea."

"My shoulder was inflamed for a couple days. I went to the doctor, and he gave me more painkillers."

"Right. So… how much longer are you here?"

"Another two weeks as long as I don't hurt myself."

Line nodded. "Miss me?"

Link paused and looked up at Line's cheesy grin. "Line… you dislocated my shoulder."

Line held up his hands. "And I said I was sorry. But come on! Look at you! You're getting… kind of a shore leave. Hell, if I knew having a dislocated shoulder would get me the same job, I'd do it!"

Link raised his eyebrows. "Will you let me dislocate your shoulder?"

"Ah…" Line stammered for a moment. "Wha-I-uh, well, uh… I, uh…"

"No."

"No. No, probably not. Uh, no, not on purpose." He paused again. "But… you know… if you ever _felt_ like it… or… if-if it happens to cross your mind. If you can make it look like an accident."

"I'm not going to make it look like an accident."

Line nodded. "Good to know… wait, does that mean you'll dislocate my shoulder?"

"It means it won't be an accident."

Line's nod was slower. "Maybe Kruz can show me how he sleeps with one eye open."

Link pointed at the office door. "They're waiting for you."

"What?" Line looked over his shoulder, where a pair of airmen stood waiting for him. "Oh, right. They need the manifest."

Link handed it to him. "See you when you get back."

"Yeah," Line nodded as he turned to the door.


	10. Doork

Doork

…

The month of sick leave finally ended for Link, and he was thankful that his and Line's scheduled shore work rotation had come at the end of it. As much as he liked working on the _Grand Sails_ (in spite of the number of times things went bad for him), he found relief in shore work.

Shore work was a new plan implemented the year before. The main Skyriders office was usually manned by workers living on the island, but there were occasions in the past where it would have been helpful to have a few airmen on hand just in case something related to sailing or the docks came up. Such as an incident when one klutzy worker had tried to move a landed junk from the office's front lawn and, instead, smashed it through the glass atrium. A few times, some of the goods that had come in on airships had been taken to the supply depot when they should have been earmarked to go directly to the office, and most of the office workers were not built to handle large crates or barrels. So the fleet captains had decided that some of their airmen could be rotated off of an airship for three weeks each. This was mostly to let them rest from the constant workings of an airship, but it was hardly meant to be a complete rest from work. Airmen on shore work had to fill out daily reports of major events around the office (some of them had had fun with this aspect, littering reports with office gossip just to keep themselves entertained), participate in skill-building courses in the evenings to help keep their knowledge of airships sharp, and help with the occasional problem whenever it arose.

Of course, Link and Line were not alone in their shore work. Two other airmen had been rotated from the _Dazzling Storm_, an armed brig, to pick up jobs that they could not take care of. However, due to Link being the only one who could read and write with any proficiency (Line and the other two could read, but Line's handwriting was horrible, and the other two airmen were amazingly incapable of spelling), he often found himself busy with the daily reports. On top of those were the courses which had to be done in the early evenings, when business would be winding down but the other airmen on the island had not gone to the local taverns yet. Because Link had to stay up late to write the reports, the evenings often ended with him so exhausted that he could barely find his way to his own room despite being in the same building.

One particular night found Link working especially late. This was due to an incident that morning, where an airman working at the supply depot had decided to start a fistfight with a barrel of grog. At least, that was how the airman at the duty station had reported it; Link had had to spend the afternoon chasing down other members of the supply depot to get the whole story for the report he needed to fill out at the end of the day. After he had found out that the airman had actually been using the grog barrel as a form of stress relief, he had had to track down the doctor who had seen to the airman's injuries. Then Link had needed to find the airman's superior in order to put the airman's punishment on the daily record. By the time Link had had all the facts, Line had shown up to remind him of the course they had needed to attend. Afterwards, Line had agreed to stay with Link while he finished his report.

In the candle-lit office which the shore work airmen had to occupy to make themselves available for emergencies, Link finished his last statement with an awkwardly-placed period. He let out a loud yawn. "Okay, Line," he moaned. "I'm done."

"Geez, it's about _time_," Line replied, the feet of his reclined chair clacking to the floor. "It's gotta be almost morning by now."

"I told you it was gonna take a while," Link responded as he slowly stood up. His legs hurt from all the walking he had had to do. And, thanks to the report needing as much of his time as possible, his stomach felt like it would cave in any moment without the dinner he had had to skip. "At least it's done."

"Man, that's just ridiculous!" Line stood up from his chair and crossed the room to the desk Link used. "Why couldn't anyone else do this?"

"Because no one can write like me, I guess," Link said. His hand slid under the form he had just filled out, but then he stopped and thought. "I think I'll file this tomorrow; it's not like it's gonna go anywhere."

"I think you should burn it," Line said as they moved to the exit.

"I'd just have to write it again."

"We're _ten_, Link. This can't be good for us."

"What are _you_ whining about? You sleep in _anyway_."

"Yeah, but I'm not nearly stupid enough to—gohf!"

"Ugh!" Both boys stopped at the doorway after Link, halfway out the door ahead of Line, turned straight into Line. "Oh, sorry."

"What was _that_?"

"Candle."

"Huh?"

"We need the candle."

Line turned back to the desk. "Oh, right." He retrieved the candle and followed Link into the hallway, sure to keep the candle to one side where Link would not block its light. "All I'm saying is I'm not dumb enough to just waste time like that. I sleep in because we're always working on the _Grand Sails_. I know this isn't supposed to be shore leave, but come _on_! I _like_ sleeping in my own bed. It's not a berth that sways with the ship. I'm just trying to catch up all the hours I lose when we're sailing."

"You're supposed to unlock all the perimeter doors in the morning, remember? That's why I gave you that key."

Line blew a short raspberry. "Big deal. Unlock the front, unlock the back, unlock the side, unlock the storage shed."

"The front door has to be open during business hours."

"Link, no one gets here that early!"

"How do you know? You _sleep_ through it!"

"Boys!" a voice from behind called out, startling them both. They turned to see one of the _Dazzling Storm_'s airmen approaching with a lantern. "It's eyes out right now. Shut up and go to bed."

"Gladly," Line replied in an irate tone. The airman shook his head and turned to go to the office. "Big deal. It's not like we were gonna go anywhere else."

"Come on, Line," Link groaned as he continued down the hallway.

"Just because he comes off a ship built around a gun," Line continued as he followed Link. "Don't those guys seem a little stuck-up to you?"

Link shrugged his indifference. "Probably the effects of being on an airship with guns."

"The _Grand Sails_ has guns, and _we_ don't act like that."

"That's because we have _other_ reasons to act like that."

"What's that mean?" Link and Line stopped at their quarters. Link did not respond while he fished in his trouser pocket for their key. When Line saw the confused look on Link's face, he asked, "What is it?"

"My key's missing," Link said, checking the other pocket. "I was _sure_ I had it here."

"Sure you didn't leave it in the office?"

Link shook his head. "No, I _always_ put it in my trouser pocket. It didn't have a reason to be out." After a few more minutes of searching, he groaned and said, "We'll have to use your key."

Line's face changed to an expression of concern. "Uh… Link, I didn't think I ever _got_ a key."

"We've been living together for the past three years, but you never got a key?"

Line shrugged. "I thought someone just forgot, but I never said anything." Then he snapped his fingers. "But don't worry. I've got an idea. Just wait here."

"Yeouch!" Link shouted when, after having the candleholder shoved into his hands, his thumb touched the melted wax at the bottom. He was about to complain, but Line was already jogging down the hallway. Link wrinkled his face in annoyance and checked his pockets again. He realized something and checked his back pocket. By the time he pulled out his key, he remembered that he had left the key in there so it would not get confused with the notes he had had to make and get thrown away. He looked back down the hallway, but he realized that he was too tired to chase Line. Besides, he would be back to find the door unlocked anyway.

Link unlocked the door and stepped inside. Their quarters were barely larger than the quarters they shared with six other airmen on the _Grand Sails_, but it was nice to have some room to themselves. Their beds were on either side of the door. This made it easier for a superior to smash the door into Link's bed while shouting at Line to get up. It must have been the reason; Captain Alfonzo had done it enough times that it could not be a coincidence. Each of them had a writing desk at the foot of their beds. Link's desk had a few sheets of paper, an old pen and ink well, and a hole in one side where Line had demonstrated how tough the desks were supposed to be. Line's desk looked little better than a card table that someone had vomited on. Two beat-up, wooden dressers broke up the empty space on the far side of the room.

Link did not worry himself with undressing. He blew out the candle, put the candleholder on his desk, and flopped onto the bed. He idly shoved the door and decided to just leave it open a bit so Line would see. He was asleep in seconds.

_BOOOOOOM!_ Link jolted awake and became aware enough to see what looked suspiciously like a metal-clad prow reflecting light from outside. He realized how impossible this was until he noticed that someone had made a large hole in the far wall, completely destroying both dressers in the process. Dust settled over everything, and Link could see Line sprawled over the side of a "hammerhead" junk.

Link groaned and dropped back onto the bed. He would panic about it in the morning.


	11. When Favors Fall Through

When Favors Fall Through

…

There were times when Link was happy for a bit of shore leave, especially when it was on Skyrider Port. He would wander around the office or pick out a book from the company library and read. Sometimes he would go to the docks and watch the vessels tie up load, unload, and sail out. As long as no one knew where he was, sometimes he would go out to the hidden tree on a hill outside of the port area. He never realized that people knew where that hill was, when he was there, and that he was sleeping the day away. They simply did not care. Sometimes, he would get involved with some elaborate prank that Line had set up, only to watch it end in complete failure with both of them in trouble.

Then there were times he was put to work.

As much as Link valued his off-time, he found it horribly difficult to say no whenever someone asked him for a favor. Admittedly, he would purposely use side-streets and alleys to avoid the shop owners who occasionally asked if he would sweep out their shop or move some furniture for a few rupees. He did not do these odd jobs for the money; he just had an impulse to say yes whenever people asked.

He did not believe that Leeta would catch him, though. Because he was seeking refuge at her tavern.

Sail Tavern was supposed to be a haven for _Grand Sails_ airmen because of the good standings between Captain Alfonzo and Leeta, the owner. But the moment after Link stepped into the tavern, Leeta asked him if he would mind helping mend a few holes in the roof while she smothered him with her customary bear hug. Leeta had a wide, buxom body which used to hide most of Link's head in a hug when he was younger. Her round face framed by wavy, blond hair was usually a comfort; it meant she was done squeezing Link's meager guts out through his ears. She generally wore a wide array of silk shirts and trousers which she always managed to keep immaculate, and this occasion saw her wearing a pastel pink shirt tucked into multi-pocketed docker slacks. Her request bore a reward of free drinks and ten rupees for pocket change. Again, it was not the reward which persuaded Link to help.

He wished it was, though, once he saw who else she had suckered into patching the roof.

Line wiped his forehead with his sleeve. "I can see why she offered drinks for this job," he told Link. He stood up and crossed to the corner of the shallow roof where the roofing slats had been placed. "I thought taking off our tunics would help. We should've taken off our undersuits, too."

"It's not nearly _that_ bad up here, Line," Link told him in an irritated tone. "We do more on the ship than this."

"If that's the case," Leeta called up to them from the street, "you should've been done with it sooner, right?"

"It's Link slowing us down," Line replied, pointing the head of his hammer. "He has to tap the nails in _gently_, like one bad hit's gonna bend it the wrong way."

"You're not doing any _better_!" Link accused, pointing his own hammer. "You're not even pounding the nails in all the way! You just smash them into the slats."

"Line!" Leeta called in a warning tone. "If any of those slats fall, I'm holding you responsible."

"Oh, they're _fine_!" Line called back. "Link's just being lame." He picked up another slat and dragged it to the hole he was covering. "Pick up the pace, will ya? I'm almost done with _my_ half."

Link finished placing the slat he was working on and surveyed Line's side. "Line, none of those are parallel," he said. "It looks like a drunk fixed them with a bottle."

"I look at it this way, Link. If any town guard asks one of our airmen to walk a line, they can just come up here and do it. Besides, it's not like people will see it; we're going to be covering it with the anchor sheet and roof plates anyway."

"Can I expect _those_ to be straight?" Leeta asked.

"There's a reason we don't do hulls," Line joked.

"Line!"

"Yes! Yes! They'll be straight!"

Link crossed to the corner to get another slat. "We're not getting _anything_ if you're gonna make fun of her."

_Tam. Tam._ Line looked up from what he was doing. _Tam._ "Oh, who are _you_ kidding? You're here because she _asked_."

_Tam. _"Yeah?" Link replied with a challenging tone.

_Tam._ "You are the m—" _Thup!_ "Yeouch!" Line dropped his hammer to cradle his pounding thumb.

"What happened?" Leeta asked.

"Line's practicing for the next time he needs to get out of duty," Link said, flashing a pleased grin at her as he crossed back to the hole he was working on.

"Why?" she demanded.

"Because I just hit my thumb!" Line screamed. "You suck, Link!"

"Just shake it off," Leeta told him. "Are you an airman or a baby?"

"I'm in pain!" Link shook his head, trying not to laugh aloud. "Oh, you think that's _funny_?"

Link looked up. His voice had just a hint of laughter in it as he said, "Don't get mad at me just because you weren't paying attention."

"Okay, that's it," Line said as he stood up.

Link saw him stomping in his direction and immediately held up his hands. "Line, wait!"

_Kurch! Ka-RAAAAASHH!_ The hole that Link was attempting to fix caved under Line's boots, taking some of the surrounding material with it. Both Link and Line fell through, shouting in surprise as they landed inside. To their fortune, they just happened to land on the bed in one of the empty rooms on the second floor.

Unfortunately, Leeta kept the boys the rest of the day to fix the new hole and cover the rest of the roof with metal paneling, which she had originally planned to ask a proper roofer to do. Her promise stood, but all they got was water at the end of the day, and she shooed them out after their second glass while stuffing the rupees she had offered into their hands. They spent the last couple hours of the night lying in their quarters after a long walk, bickering back and forth between groaning about the tremendous pain they felt.


End file.
